Eulogy for QueeQueg
by DaughterOfStarlight
Summary: In season two, Dana Scully unwittingly adopted QueeQueg, the Pomeranian, and lost him some twenty-odd episodes later. This incident was, of course, entirely Mulder's fault. Here blame is squarely placed.


**Evening, Freaky Darlings. This is just a short oneshot (when is it not?) adressing the fact that Dana's dog got eaten by an alligator that Mulder was convinced was a bad spinoff of the Loch Ness monster. We don't see much of what becomes of this, but she seemed pretty grief-racked and Mulder seemed to find it a casuality of war, so here the problem of QueeQueg is adressed. **

**As with everything, love to my fans and reviewers, especially you repeat offenders, and anything worthwile found below belongs to Chris Carter, god of network television.**

"For God's sake, Dana, let me in! It's pouring!"

Special agent Fox Mulder was huddled on the front step of his partner's house, already drenched and only getting wetter. The weather could only be described as God-awful, with gale force winds that blew the rain completely sideways. Scully knew he was picking her up tonight; they and some friends from the office had gotten a group rate on floor seats to see the Knicks. Even Scully couldn't pass that up. But that was before the 'incident' with that damn dog, and as she sat contently in the glow of the window, reading a book and effectively ignoring him, Mulder was fairly certain that she was screwing with his head.

"Dana!" Mulder snapped, violently ringing the doorbell once again. He had long ago given up on the polite 'Agent Scully please answer the door' and had resorted to the slightly more effective 'As God as my witness Dana, if you don't let me in _right now _I will never make you coffee again'. He was tempted just to leave her sorry self there and meet his co-workers at the game, but there was the small problem regarding the fact that Scully had his ticket.

_She's planned this all out_, Mulder thought bitterly as another sheet of water hit him. _This is to get back at me. That plotting, manipulative…_

Suddenly Scully looked up, scowling as if she couldn't ignore the racket a moment longer. She went to the door, lingering there but not opening it.

"Go home, Mulder," Her voice was muffled through the door.

"Screw that, Scully! Let me in!"

"Don't you have a game to go to?"

"Yeah, and you have my ticket! You knew I was coming, admit it!"

"Do you hear me denying anything?"

Mulder slammed his palm against the door. "Why are you being such a vindictive wench?"

"Don't call me that."

"You've called me worse. What did I do?"

Scully yanked open the door, feeling no need to remove the chain. She gazed at him angrily through the five inch crack.

"Out of delusions and displaced abandonment issues, you dragged me out on a drizzling Saturday morning to search for a fictional creature which turned out to be an alligator that _ate my dog_."

"Well I'm sorry about the causality, Scully, but I think I'm suffering more than the dog did in this flood!"

"I loved that dog, Mulder!"

"It was an entrails-eating Pomeranian; how much could you possibly have loved it?"

Scully said nothing, fuming. Mulder swallowed his anger, making himself lower his voice.

"Listen, Dana, I'm sorry about QueeQueg. Honest. He…was a good dog."

Scully nodded sadly. "He was so intelligent. I was going to teach him to recognize basic elements on a periodic table…"

"He was very smart," Mulder agreed, wondering why he was getting reeled into this impromptu eulogy. "Loud and energetic and…fluffy."

"God rest him," The woman muttered. "Though animals don't have souls, of course. It's a nice sentiment though, isn't it?"

"Sure."

Scully looked extremely grief-ridden for a moment while Mulder dripped. Finnaly, he sighed.

"So are we going to the Knicks game or not?"

Scully sighed, unhooking the chain from the door and opening it fully. She was in satin pajamas and no shoes.

"I lied about the dates," Scully said with a slightly guilty pout. "The play-offs aren't till next Thursday but I knew it was going to rain tonight and I thought it might benefit you to feel some remorse or accountability for your actions."

"…You brought me out here to play mind games?"

His partner sighed, rubbing her neck. "No. I just really miss my dog."

Mulder sighed heavily, deflated. "So is this the part where I go home and meditate on my innumerable character flaws?"

Scully looked up at him, smiling for the first time all night. "No. This is the part where I let you come in and sit by my fire to dry off as you drink my wine. Merlot?"

Mulder dumped his sopping trench coat onto her porch, stepping into her home. "Two glasses, please. Lord knows I need it tonight."

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